Witch Hunt and Kill
by Hobbit Killer
Summary: What if Ziva hadn't screwed up during the episode, Witch Hunt?


DISCLAIMER: DON'T OWN

A/N This story is an AU based on the fourth season episode, "Witch Hunt" (episode 406). In the episode, a little girl is kidnaped and one of the kidnapers poses as the mother's sister. She and the mother leave through a bedroom window while Ziva is supposed to be watching them in order to pay the ransom. This story also makes references to other episodes, especially Hiatus, so it may be hard to understand if one is not well acquainted with the show.

**This story is Ziva centered. It is a little graphic at some points, so I'd advise against the squeamish reading.**

_What if Ziva hadn't let Staff Sergeant Niles' wife and her "sister" out of her sight?_

Ziva watched through the window as Gibbs pulled his car out of the drive on his way to meet Tony at the ex-boyfriend's house. She turned around to see the wife and her sister making their way into the master bedroom. "You'll have to leave the door open!" she yelled as the sister moved to close the door.

"Is that really necessary?" asked the sister impatiently. "My sister's already had enough trauma tonight. Does her privacy have to be invaded as well?"

"I'm sorry, M'am," Ziva said. "But I'm fraid I can't allow her out of my sight in case she is contacted by the kidnappers."

"What, you won't be able to hear the phone ring when they call?" asked the sister insistently. Ziva belatedly realized that she had not learned her name.

"The may try to contact you some other way; make a demand that they don't ant us to know about," responded Ziva, trying to keep her cool. The last thing she wanted was for Mrs. Niles to start crying again. "I'm afraid we can't risk you making any deals without our knowledge."

"Fine," said the sister. "But after this is all over, my lawyer is going to have a long talk with your director, Officer David."

It was then that the previously silent Mrs. Niles spoke. "She's just trying to do her job," she said, setting oddly icy eyes on her sister. "I'll be fine." The sister looked decidedly unhappy at Mrs. Niles' words, but appeared to stop herself from pursuing her point further.

An awkward silence fell on the three women.

"Is it alright if I lie down now?" asked Mrs. Niles.

"Of course," said Ziva. "Take as long as you need, Mrs. Niles. Agent Gibbs is the best there is. He'll find your daughter."

For the first time that evening, Mrs. Niles looked at Ziva with what could almost be considered a smile. "I believe that, Officer David," she said.

Ziva returned the smile before taking a seat on the couch, in full view of the open doorway. She was surprised when the sister came into the room and took a seat across from Ziva.

"I'm sorry for being curt," said the sister, crossing her legs and casually resting her chin between her thumb and forefinger. "I have no children. Sara is the closest thing I have to a daughter."

"It's understandable," said Ziva cautiously. Something about this woman put her on edge. Tony would probably say it was her, "crazy ninja senses" at work. "You know," said Ziva. "I never caught your name Ms..."

"James," supplied the woman. "And it's Mrs."

"Mrs. James," said Ziva, slowly nodding. "As I said earlier, I know the grief of losing someone you love. I will do everything I can to keep you and your sister from experiencing that pain."

"I don't doubt it," said James, an odd half smile crossing her face, though her eyes remained stone cold. "Your team seems to be particularly motivated."

"Well, it's not my team," said Ziva. "It's Gibbs' team. We get our drive from him."

"Really?" asked the sister. "He must be very inspirational."

Ziva straightened. There was something in the other woman's tone that set off alarms in Ziva's head. "He is an excellent agent," she said, staring her companion in the eye. On a whim her eyes glanced toward the bedroom. Mrs. Niles was standing in the doorway, her eyes locked on her sister. "Is there something you need, Mrs. Niles?" she asked, causing Mrs. James to glance up.

"Lori?" asked Mrs. James. "Are you alright?"

"Aside from my daughter being kidnaped?" asked Mrs. Niles bitterly. "I just wanted to make some coffee." As she spoke, her eyes zeroed in on Ziva's as though she were trying to silently communicate with the Mossad officer.

"Would you like some help?" asked Ziva, keeping her voice normal._ Is there something you want to tell me?, was_ the unspoken question in her eyes.

"That would be great," said Mrs. Niles, her silent relief reflected in the relaxation of her posture.

"Would you like anything, Mrs. James?" Ziva asked as she stood from her spot on the couch, her tone and posture warning the sister not to follow.

Mrs. James was already on her feet when Ziva spoke Her body turned rigid at the tone of Ziva's voice, her expression turning briefly into one of anger. She looked like she wanted to challenge the federal agent for a second, but something stopped her and she sat back down. "No," she said, her attempt at sounding calm foiled by the underlying frustration in her tone. "I'm fine, Officer David. Thank you for the offer."

"Very well, siad Ziva. "After you, Mrs. Niles," she said, motioning toward the kitchen. The marine wife bowed her head as she walked passed Ziva into the kitchen.

After they entered the kitchen, Mrs. Miles leaned wearily against the counter. "There's something I haven't been telling you, Officer David," she said, avoiding eye contact.

When she paused, Ziva rased her eyebrows. "Yes?" she asked, willing the woman to continue.

"It's...about my sister," said Niles. "She's not my sister."

"She's not?" asked Ziva, unable to suppress her confusion. "Then who is she?"

"Someone you won't meet again." Before Ziva could react to the new voice, the unmistakable sound of a silencer muffled bullet being fired resonated throughout the kitchen.

In an instant, Ziva's legs were turned to jelly. Her world tilted as she fell to the cold, tacky linoleum of the kitchen floor. Breathing suddenly became a very complicated action as she shakily pressed her hand against the mass of destroyed flesh that used to be the muscle and skin covering her rib cage. With her remaining strength, Ziva withdrew her Sig from its holster, her grip barely able to squeeze the trigger, firing a round into her assailant's arm. She collapsed before she could see if it hit the mark.

"Damn it!" exclaimed the woman, grasping her bleeding arm with one hand, and bringing her gun up with the other as she prepared to shoot the agent again.

"NO!" cried Mrs. Niles, placing herself between Ziva's prone form and her attacker.

"Lori," said James, a half manic glint in her eye, though her voice held an odd calm. "I would strongly suggest you get out of my way if you wish to see your daughter again." She raised her gun to shoot again, but was stooped by Lori grabbing her arm.

"What if someone heard her gun go off?" asked Lori, looking half frantic. "We don't have the time." Mrs. Niles stared her counterpart straight in the eye. "Leave her, and you'll get my complete cooperation."

James' jaw clenched. "You're not in much of a position to bargain, after what you tried to pull, Mrs. Niles," she said, glaring at the woman. "But, seeing as it won't make much of a difference, I think i can grant you this one request." She suddenly smiled; a cruel twist of her mouth that reflected the malice in her eyes. "After all," she said, "you've had a stressful day." She looked down at Ziva who was desperately trying to pull suddenly thick air into her lungs. "And she's not going to last long anyways."

"Boss, Ziva's not answering her cell," said Tony, snapping his phone shut. They were standing outside of Robert Miller, Lorie Niles' ex-boyfriend's house. Miller was already in the back seat of the car, ready to be brought into NCIS headquarters for questioning.

"That's strange," said McGee. "Why wouldn't she answer her cell phone?"

Gibbs sighted taking off his hat and scratching his head. "Something's not right," he said, becoming as close to fidgeting as Tony had ever seen. "Get in the car," he said finally.

Tony and McGee looked at each other in confusion before taking their seats; Tony riding shotgun and McGee sitting next to Miller. No sooner had they pulled their doors shut, than Gibbs had whipped the car onto the road, tires squealing as Gibbs most like set the record speed on the small neighborhood street.

"Um, Boss?" said McGee nervously. "Isn't NCIS the other way?"

"We're not going to NCIS," said Gibbs coldly, slowing down when they came up on a street packed with trick-or-treaters. "We're going to see why Ziva isn't answering her phone."

"Is your gut telling you something, Boss?" asked Tony, trying to find the answer on Gibbs' face. The only response he got was Gibbs whipping the car around a turn onto an empty street. "I guess that's a yes," said Tony, as his body was smashed against the passenger side door.

Ziva had no idea how long she'd been laying on the ugly linoleum tiles, her blood spilling out over her hands and pooling beneath her. Her mind had begun wandering as she waited, hoping that someone would have heard the gunshot. Unfortunately, even if they had, they probably would have assumed it was just a sound effect from someone's Halloween mis. That conclusion, along with her new found agreement with Tony on the metter of hating Halloween, were the last coherent thoughts that ad crossed her mind.

At this point, only images flew through her brain. Some made no sense at all. Others were memories that had long been buried behind the mask of the cool and indifferent Mossad agent. An image flashed through her head of her, Tali and Ari when they were young and innocent. They were exchanging glances at a dinner party being held at their father's house, and suppressing laughter over some unknown inside joke they shared to alleviate the boredom. The next image was of a doctor, whose name she had never learned, pulling a white sheet over her sister's shrapnel scarred body, followed closely by that of her brother lying on a brown-gray basement floor, his blood gently flowing out of his shattered skull towards her.

Suddenly, the front door was thrown open.

"Ziva!" She could hear Gibbs' voice across the house.

She struggled to respond, but found she could only make an odd gurgling sound as saliva tinted with blood frothed from her mouth. Frustrated, she was about to try again, when her partner's shoes entered her line of vision.

"Ziva!" Tony cried, nearly collapsing to his knees in his rush to get to his partner. "McGee, call an ambulance!" he shouted, no noticing that he had switched into team leader mode again, as he often had when Gibbs first returned from his short lived retirement in Mexico.

"What is it, Tony?" asked McGee as he rushed into the room. The moment he caught sight of Ziva, and Tony's hands covered with her blood as the senior agent tried to stop the seemingly endless flow of red surging from the Mossad officer's body, he froze.

"_Now, Probie!"_ yelled Tony, spurring Tim into action.

As McGee whipped out his cell phone, Gibbs, who had been the only member to keep his head enough to clear the house came in. "There was no sign of forced entry, and Mrs. Niles and her sister aren't here," he said. His eyes caught sight of Ziva lying on the floor. "Damn," he said, rushing to the kitchen counter, and grabbing some dish towels as well as ripping the roll of paper towels from the rack. "Here," he said, shoving the towels in front of Tony's face. "Use these."

"Right, Boss," said Tony, hastily moving to press towels into the wound, having significantly more success in stemming the flow.

Gibbs leaned over Ziva. "Ziva!" he called, tapping her face, "can you hear me?" An audible sigh of relief was shared by all three men when their fellow agent slowly dipped her head in response. "Good. That's real good, Ziva," said Gibbs, taking her hand in his in a rare sign of affection towards his newest agent. "You just stay with us, alright?" he said, waiting for Ziva to nod before continuing. "The ambulance is on it's way."

"Did Mrs. Niles do this, Ziva?" asked Tony, his teeth clenching at the thought.

When Ziva shook her head, "no", McGee asked, "Was she here when it happened?" Ziva nodded yes, so Tim continued. "It wasn't her sister was it?" Silenced reigned after her head bobbed the affirmative once more.

"Mrs. Niles is in on it?" Tony asked, not believing that the mother who had been so grief stricken had a hand in her husband's shooting and her daughter's kidnaping. He was even more confused, however, when Ziva shook her head, "no". "She wasn't," he affirmed, "but her sister was?". In what seemed to be an attempt at misplaced humor, Ziva slowly shifter her arm, bringing her hand up to her face, before placing her finger on her nose. Tony was confused at first, until he remembered their first meeting when he failed to pass off his odd fantasy about Kate as playing charades. "That's a yes, Boss," he said, twisting to face Gibbs.

"That's good work, Ziva," said Gibbs, as he laid a surprisingly gently hand on the back of Ziva's head.

"Boss, I hear the ambulance," said McGee as he rushed to the window, thankful for the presence of red and blue flashing lights.

"Just think, Ziva," said Tony, cracking one of his trademark grins. "For the next few weeks you won't have to do laundry, or cook, or suffer Gibbs slaps." No sooner had the words left his mouth, than had Gibbs' hand collided with the back of his head. "Thank you, Boss," said Tony, pleased to see a ghost of a smile cross Ziva's face.

"We got a call for an officer down?" the voice of the paramedics made the three men's heads whip around.

"In here!" yelled Gibbs, climbing back to his feet. The paramedics could be heard making their way through the house towards them, a gurney rattling behind them.

"What've we got?" asked one of the paramedics as they entered the kitchen, lifting the gurney to get it around Ziva's feet.

"NCIS agent, Ziva David," said Gibbs as he tugged on Tony's shoulder to get him out of the paramedics' ways. "Shot once in the abdomen."

"Actually," said the paramedic, carefully rolling Ziva onto her side. "It appears to be a shot in the back; through and through. Come on," he said, waving over his partner, "let's get her on the gurney."

"How's it look?" asked Time, watching as the paramedics strapped Ziva onto the gurney.

"I've seen worse," said the medic before turning to his partner. "I'll get her out to the truck. Go get the oxygen and some morphine." He was interrupted when Ziva began to cough violently, sending a fine spray of red over the white sheet they'd placed her on. "Shit," said the paramedic, unstrapping Ziva and rolling her on her side so she wouldn't choke. "Hurry it up1" he yelled to his partner. "Come on," he said, turning to the three NCIS agents. "Help me get her out."

Tony sprang to his feet taking the other end of the stretcher and immediately beginning to pull it out. The paramedic was quick on his feet, and the two were soon loading Ziva into the ambulance. The medics jumped into the van, and soon Ziva was hooked up to all kinds of machines that beeped and whirred with the signs of her fading life.

Gibbs just barely had time to jump into the back with Ziva before the van set off, sirens screaming.

As the ambulance turned the corner, Tony's phone rang. "Yeah?" he said, putting the phone to his ear. He was surprised to hear Gibbs' voice.

"DiNozzo," said Gibbs. "Take Miller back to NCIS. He may still be involved."

"Oh, right," said Tony, looking over at the man sitting in the back of their car. "I forgot about him."

"Yeah, well put him in interrogation. I'll be there as soon as I can," said Gibbs, brushing a strand of hair from Ziva's sweaty face. "Tell the director what happened, and tell her Ziva's at Portsmouth."

"Will do, Boss," said Tony, only to e cut off when Gibbs hung up. Snapping his phone shut, he turned to face McGee. "Come on probie," he said, going over to their car, glad the suspect hadn't had the brains or guts to take advantage of the deys they'd left in the ignition. "We've got to get back."

Jenny Shepard had never been a big fan of Halloween. She had been to a costume party here and there, but had never really thought of it as a real holiday. Of course, she had never really had a reason to hate it before Tony came barging into her office in a very "Gibbs" manner saying that Ziva had been shot after being left alone with some witnesses.

Now she was once more making her way through Portsmouth Hospital heading for trauma. The last time she was here, Gibbs was just blown up, for lack of a better term, and she'd left a dinner party at the White House to go see him. Still, the same thrill of fear had not run down her spine then as it did now. Perhaps it was because she had grown used to Gibbs fighting his way back through everything. But, if that were the case, why should she worry about Ziva? She knew Ziva was capable of doing practically anything, and had doubtless gotten herself out of hundreds of seemingly inescapable situations before. Still, there had always seemed to be a vulnerable side to Ziva. Whether it was because of the tragedies in her life, of just because she was so young, Jen didn't know, but it was there.

Like a case of deja vu, Nurse Washingtown, the same nurse who had been on duty when Jenny had stormed in after Gibbs, sat at the reception desk.

"Oh, Lord," said the nurse as she glanced up. "So," she said, "who were you having dinner with this time, Director?"

"Condition of Officer Ziva David," Jenny said, not rising to the bate.

Sensing that the other woman wouldn't tolerate any further stalling, Ethel Washingtown typed the name into the computer. "Trauma One," she said, glancing up at the Director. At Jen's expectant look, she reached down to press the button that unlocked the trauma doors.

"Thank you," said Jen, striding confidently into the emergency wing, not even bothering to ask for the room number.

"Jenny?"

Jen turned when she heard her name called. "Todd," she said, smiling tightly at the doctor who'd treated Gibbs.

Captain Gelfand smiled at the director. "It's nice to see you here again," he said. "Though I hope the circumstances are different."

"If by different you mean one of my agents was shot this time, instead of blown up, then yes," said Jen, sounding more harsh than she meant to.

Dr. Gelfand looked taken aback. "Wow," he said, kicking himself for his bluntness. "I'm sorry," He looked at Jenny closely. "It's not Agent Gibbs again, is it?" he asked.

"No," said Jenny, a slight smile gracing her features. "For once, Gibbs manages to stay out of the line of fires." She sobered, however, when she thought of who hadn't managed to avoid injury for once. "I'm here for Officer Ziva David," she said. "She was shot investigating a kidnaping."

"Oh," said Todd. "Is it serious?"

"That's what I'm here to find out," said Jenny, impatiently looking over Dr. Gelfand's shoulder.

"Of course," said the captain. "I think I can help you find her," he said, gently placing his hand on Jenny's arm and leading her down the hallway. The came up on a suite of operating rooms. "This is where the gunshot victims are brought."

Jen's eyes searched the windows for Ziva. She almost barged in on the surgery in progress, before Todd stopped her. "That's her," she said, eyes locking desperately on Ziva's face.

"You'll have to wait until she's out of surgery," said Todd. Seeing the distress on the NCIS director's face, he hastily continued. "But, I can assure you, that's one of our best surgeons in there."

Jen glanced at the doctor's face briefly before she turned back to watching the surgeons working on Ziva. "Thank you," she said. "For all of you help."

Todd smiled gently, putting a reassuring hand on Jenny's shoulder. "I'll be close by if you need me." At her nod, he reluctantly left her to check on his own patients, silently praying for the young woman he'd seen in that room. His brief glance at the monitors had been enough to tell him that the agent's case was serious.

Miller almost fell out of his chair as Gibbs slammed his hand on the able. "WHERE IS SHE?" he demanded, his voicing past intimidating.

"Who?" asked Miller, his desperation and fear obvious.

"SARA!" yelled Gibbs, standing and putting his face directly in front of Miller's. He narrowed his eyes at Miller. "You kidnaped her and left your plant to control Mrs. Niles!"

"No!" insisted Miller. "I didn't. I swear! I would never do anything to hurt Sara. She might be my daughter!"

Gibbs continued, ignoring Miller's denial. "YOUR PLANT SHOT MY AGENT!" he yelled, causing Miller to fly back, knocking his chair over.

"I sear," he said as he practically groveled on the floor. "I had nothing to do with shooting your agent." As Gibbs stood overhim, Miller closed his eyes. "Please don't kill me," he whimpered pathetically.

Gibbs seemed to consider Miller for a moment before he turned on his heal and left the room. Tony and McGee met him in the hallway.

"You gonna give me a shot at him, Boss?" asked Tony, looking ready to charge in. His hand, Gibbs noted, rested severely on his Sig.

"No," said Gibbs quietly. "He didn't do it."

"Are you sure?" asked McGee, glancing at the doorway. "He has the biggest motive, and the car that was used to kidnap Sara was in front of his house."

"I know the facts, McGee," said Gibbs curtly, heading for the Bullpen. "That guy doesn't have the guts to pull something like this."

As they got to the Bullpen, Tony asked, "What no, Boss?"

Gibbs turned on Tony. "We find the bastards behind this."

Jen watched silently as Ziva was wheeled into an ICU room after countless hours of surgery.

Several hours in, Jen had received a call from Gibbs reporting the deaths of all the kidnapers. Jen couldn't bring herself to be happy at the news as she watched the surgeons worked on Ziva.

Ziva had flat-lined three times during the operation. Her chances were slim at best. The doctors had frankly told the Director her agent's chances. They were unaware that they weren't talking about just any agent, but one of Jenny's greatest friends.

The whole situation seemed surreal.

"Director Shepard?" asked a nurse, drawing Jenny's attention. "Would you like to go in now?"

"Yes," said Jenny, snapping herself out of her daze. "Thank you." She gathered herself mentally and attempted to appear confident as she entered the small room.

The sight of Ziva so weak and frail broke Jen's heart. "Oh, Ziva," she said. "How did this happen?"

Two weeks passed, and Ziva still lay in the deathlike sleep of a coma. The first week had been a constant rollercoaster of touch-and-go moments and close calls. It wasn't until halfway through the second that the doctors felt safe to pronounce a stable condition.

Sixteen days after Ziva was shot, the Israeli's eyes finally fluttered open.

"Ziva?" The Mossad officer easily recognized her friend and director's voice. "Oh, thank God," said Jenny as she leaned down to gently embrace the younger woman.

"Jenny?" asked Ziva, her brain foggy. "What hap..." before Ziva could finish the question, she was assaulted with the memory of everything that happened. "The child!" she cried, trying to sit up. She let out a cry of pain before she could raise an inch, and fell back in agony.

"Relax, Ziva," soothed Jenny, gently placing her hand on Ziva's forehead. "The guys found her. She's alright."

Ziva took a deep breath, thankful that the girl came out of the horrific experience alright. Suddenly, she remembered Mrs. Niles. "What about the mother?" she asked with concern.

"She made it through as well," said Jenny, reassuringly. "She came by a few days ago and left you a Christmas's worth of gifts."

"Why? I didn't get her daughter back, Gibbs, Tony, and McGee did," said Ziva, though she was touched by the gesture.

"She felt guilty for what happened to you," said Jenny, smiling gently. "She felt you wouldn't have been hurt if she hadn't gone against that kidnaper's wishes."

"Well that's..." Ziva interrupted herself again. "Wait, you said a few days. How long was I out?"

Jen sighed. "Sixteen days," she said, causing Ziva's eyebrows to shoot up.

"Sixteen days?" asked Ziva incredulously. "How much did I miss?"

Jen's smile grew. "Not much," she said, impressed by Ziva's dedication. "But it would have gone easier with you around," she reassured, not wanting Ziva to feel unneeded. "And, before you ask," she continued, "you're gonna be riding a desk for a long while." When Ziva opened her mouth to protest, Jenny held up her hand to silence her. "As your director, I cannot allow you to do anything that might prohibit your healing. Your first assignment will be to write up your incident report, and have a nice talk with Mrs. Niles and her little girl."

Ziva actually smiled. "Now that's desk work I can live with."

The End

Another Peace, Hobbit Killer production


End file.
